A Startling Place in Magical History
by Laurus Nobilis
Summary: The wizarding world was quite messy in the '40s, and Dumbledore had the right intentions but the wrong lead. Harry Potter and Card Captor Sakura.


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

**Author's Note:** Although this fic can be read as a one-shot, it's set in the same continuity as _The Next Great Adventure_ and _Things Much Worse Than Death_.

I've made a few small changes to make this compliant with _Deathly Hallows_. SPOILER ALERT! They're vague, but they're here. Also, there's a tiny reference to Oscar Wilde's _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, because I just can't help it...

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**A Startling Place in Magical History**

**Hogsmeade, 1941**

Albus took a deep breath before he entered the inn. Once again, he hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do. It wasn't going to be a pleasant meeting, that much he was sure of. Something inside of him still told him that this couldn't be what it looked like, that he was making a mistake; he certainly hoped that was the case. However, there was a feeling of dread that wouldn't leave him alone. The worst part was that his suspicions were not unfounded, and all the little hints and details lead him to the same conclusion.

There was only one thing he could do: he had to go and find out. If he was lucky, he'd make a fool of himself in front of his friend and be very, very relieved. And if he was right... well, he'd rather not think about that until it was necessary. _If_ it was necessary at all, he told himself. But he would run the risk. He'd never forgive himself, if he made such a mistake once again.

Clow received him with a smile, as usual; but Albus immediately noticed that his Guardians were not present. That wasn't common, and it struck him as a bad sign. He must have foreseen his visit, and the reason for it. However, he didn't seem at all upset, and simply offered his guest a seat.

At first, Albus thought of making small talk for a few minutes, but he soon decided that it wouldn't do. He was too anxious for that. Perhaps it would be best to go straight to the point.

"You are researching Horcruxes," he said.

"Indeed. And it's going rather well, I must say. Just the other day I found a very useful manuscript," his friend replied, unfazed by his bluntness. "Tea?"

"You seem remarkably calm about this."

Clow shook his head a little, still smiling, and sat down. He poured some tea for both of them before saying anything.

"Albus, my friend," he explained as he handed him a teacup, "the fact that I am studying Horcruxes doesn't mean that I intend to _make_ one."

For a moment, Albus remained silent, giving his friend a thoughtful look. Of course, that was the answer that anyone would give, no matter what their true intentions were. But he wanted, very much, to believe him.

"I'm sure you realize," he said at last, "that you have a lot of explaining to do."

"I imagined that, yes," Clow replied with a grin. "What do you want to hear, then?"

"Everything?" Albus said. His friend chuckled at that, but he nodded.

"The purpose of a Horcrux," he said, "is to split one's soul, gaining a longer lifespan and perhaps even near immortality, if one is clever enough to choose an object that is likely to last a long time without being destroyed. It can also be argued that this makes the wizard or witch in question more powerful. Now," he continued, pointing up a finger to prevent the other man from interrupting, "I think we can agree that I have no need of any of that. I can obviously take care of my lifespan on my own, to begin with."

"Although you must admit," Albus said, almost amused, "that you never told anyone _how_ you do it."

"I can assure you that I don't have a part of my soul hidden in a portrait somewhere," Clow said cheerfully. "Trust me, I have no intentions of getting involved with such things whatsoever. It lacks elegance."

"Elegance?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Precisely. There are many ways to live longer than the average person, or even the average wizard. Take a Philosopher's Stone, for example: that is a wonderful piece of magic, one that comes from the pursuit of excellence and perfection. This, on the other hand, is very different... taking someone else's life, and ripping your own soul apart to linger with nothing but a half-life. It's such a crude spell."

Albus could think of other ways to master death, of course. He wonder what did Clow think of _those_. It would give him a hint, perhaps, of whether his suspicions were right or wrong... But this wasn't the time to ask that (or perhaps he didn't dare; he shook that thought away immediately). One dangerous magical object at a time, he told himself.

"All right. Then, if you don't plan to make a Horcrux – and if you don't mind my intruding – let me ask you one thing," he said slowly. "What is the point of your research? I don't think it's mere curiosity, even for you."

"I don't mind. I knew you would figure it out, after all," Clow replied, with a small smile; but he became serious the very next moment. "You see," he said, "the technical aspects are what interest me. I have no intention to lengthen my life, and certainly not to get more power. But the spell is such that, with the proper tweaking, it can be used for the opposite reasons."

That sounded more like Clow, Albus thought, and the spark in his friend's eyes proved him right. Taking one of the more feared aspects of Dark Magic, and using it for a good end... that was certainly the kind of thing that only Clow Reed would think of, and he enjoyed shocking people as much as he enjoyed the ideas themselves.

"The opposite?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"Reincarnation," Clow said. "Well, not exactly. That part is not much of a problem, since I wouldn't be the first wizard to pass on his soul. It's slightly more complicated than that. The act of splitting my soul – reincarnating as two different persons, as it were – would mean that each one of them would have only half of my power. This would be quite a relief, I must admit, but it would still be part of the 'rules', so to speak. What makes a Horcrux evil is not the magic itself, but its purpose."

"That is not quite true. There _is_ darkness in the spell itself. The only way to split one's soul is by killing someone..." Albus insisted. His friend simply looked at him for a moment, giving time for the obvious to sink in. "Ah. I see. I didn't think you were the type."

"It's not as bad as it sounds. I would be performing a spell, I admit that," Clow explained. "Otherwise it would not work. But it will not disturb the natural flow of events as long as I do it in a few years, at the exact moment when I am supposed to die anyway."

"But you don't know that. You can't know beforehand when are you going to die."

"All modesty aside, Albus," he said with a small smile, "I most certainly can."

Well, Albus thought, he had a point about that. However, there was still something that didn't seem to fit.

"You just said it was 'a crude spell'," he pointed out. "What made you change your mind?"

"Ah," Clow said, and his eyes shone as he was speaking, "this is where the tweaking comes into play. I'm going to make several technical changes – don't give me that look, you know I've done this kind of thing before. One of the key elements here is timing. As you said, it takes a death to rip one's soul; but if I wait until the right moment, I can achieve that without causing any problems. And, of course, without hurting anyone else. There is also the issue of where do those pieces of soul _go_, in the end. In the original spell, all that remains is a mere imitation of life, something that is not quite human anymore. But I have no intention of _keeping_ a part of my soul, or of staying alive at all, in fact. No, I do not wish to master death, Albus. I know better than to try."

And there it was, of course – one of those little moments that made him wonder just _how much_ Clow knew. He pretended not to notice the wording.

"Then... all of your soul would be passed on to your reincarnations?" he asked.

"All of it," his friend confirmed, nodding. "The spell would create new life, instead of stretching an existing one. They would be different persons."

"I see," Albus muttered. Relief washed over him, unexpected but welcome. This changed everything.

It wasn't exactly _good_ news – he was sure that he would need quite some time to fully get used to the idea – but it was many, many times better than what he had expected to hear. He felt like a fool, misreading his friend like that, but a happy fool. And, small consolation as it was, he knew that he was far from the first person to be mislead by Clow Reed.

"You must think I am particularly slow today," he sighed. "But you are not offended, are you? I had to come."

His friend grinned at him.

"I think it was a very Gryffindor thing to do," he said. Albus couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Coming from a Slytherin, and I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"Then you can have both," Clow laughed. Then his expression became serious for a moment. "There is something I'd like to ask you, however."

"Anything," Albus said.

"I would appreciate it if you kept this as a secret," he said. "Nobody else knows about it yet."

The absence of the Guardians suddenly made a lot more sense. So he was hiding it from them... Albus thought this wasn't too wise, but it wasn't his place to question it and he didn't say anything about it. If it was true that there was still time, perhaps Clow simply didn't want to worry them with so much anticipation.

"Of course," was all he answered, smiling. "It's the least I can do, I think, after acting like this. I didn't mean to upset you, but... I had to make sure."

"We are living in a dangerous time. It is only natural that you would feel that way," Clow said, a little distant perhaps, but not at all upset. Then he grinned at him. "In any case, now I can be sure that you haven't been trying to read my mind."

"That would be awfully impolite," Albus said, smiling back at him. "I think your mind must be a frightening place, anyway."

Not to mention, he thought, that it would have been foolish to even think about it. Trying to get inside of Clow's mind would be impossible even for a skilled Legilimens as he was – and certainly dangerous, too. Any wizard with enough skill would be able to notice that there were plenty of protective spells and charms around him, so many that Albus often wondered how did he keep track of them.

"Oh, it's not so terrible," Clow said mildly. "Only a bit crowded."

"I can imagine that," Albus replied. "Well, then... since there is nothing to worry about after all, I suppose I should be heading back to Hogwarts. Are you leaving already, or will you stay in Hogsmeade a bit longer?"

"Only for a while," the wizard answered. "I plan to move to Japan soon. There are people I need to see there... things I must arrange. But I will let you know before I go, of course."

"I will see you, then," he said with a smile. He was already out of the room when he heard his friend call him again.

"Albus?"

"Yes?" he asked, turning around one last time.

"I think," Clow started slowly, his eyes a little unfocused, "that you _should_ be wary of Horcruxes, after all. Just pay attention..."

"I will," Albus assured him, before he left.

The feeling of dread was no longer misplaced, but it was definitely still there.


End file.
